


Songs of Our Past

by Winter_Dragon



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Friendship, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Love Confessions, Mages and Templars, One-Sided Relationship, Sacrifice, Snippets, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:16:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Dragon/pseuds/Winter_Dragon
Summary: "Come and listen to the songs of our past, my old friend."
           Scenes and Snippets detailing the events of the Fifth Blight and the subsequent events to follow in both Amaranthine and Kirkwall, through the eyes of Arlena Amell and Cullen Rutherford.





	

**Chapter One: Dead In the Water:**

_“If I was not myself, and you were someone else, I’d say so much to you. And I would tell the truth. Cause I can hardly breathe, your hands let go of me. “_

 

   Oh, how foolish she had been. The young woman stood frozen as she watched the Templars before her slowly climb back to their feet. Their heavy, anger filled gaze fell on her as their attacker had already slipped away. His blood stained the floor beside her, the evidence of her friend’s sin. She looked down, away from the men in the armor, to the blood beside her. She should have run with her friend, perhaps then she would have lived.

  When the young mage looked back up her eyes caught a pair of golden irises. His eyes had always been her favorite thing to look at. Though as her blue eyes clashed with his, she no longer felt the warmth that would hide there. Instead, those eyes had held nothing but anger and hurt. She had betrayed him. And, oh, how that had never been her intention.

The Knight-commander began to speak, words heavy in anger. The mage knew her life would be forfeit; everything she knew would have been stripped from her. It mattered little that hours ago she had passed her harrowing, allowing her a place a full-fledged Circle mage. They would see her made tranquil for what she had done, inadvertently of course. She had not known of her friend’s plan, not wholly.

And even as the Knight-commander spoke to her, the mage’s eyes were fixed on the golden-eyed Templar.  She did not know what she was searching for in his eyes. Perhaps, it was compassion she sought or love, though, she was foolish to even dream of the latter. Neither could be found in his eyes, however, she only found hostility.

When she was sure her fate had been sealed, even against the First Enchanter’s argument to keep her intact, someone else stepped up to defend her. The Grey Warden she had met earlier, the man with the dark hair and kind eyes. He spoke on her behalf, offering her a way out. The young mage could see it was not something the Knight-Commander wanted or his Templars, but it was not their choice.

And though, the mage looked to her golden-eyed Templar for assistance on what to say she found nothing. Instead, she found herself agreeing to the Grey Warden’s offer. She would leave the tower.  She would set forth with the Grey Warden as a new recruit; she would leave with him on the morrow for Ostagar where she would start a new life.

It would be an adventure; she tried to tell herself later when she sat alone in her chambers. Templars stood watch outside her door, afraid she too would turn to blood magic in order to flee. But she wouldn’t. Mostly for she did not believe blood magic was the answer, but mostly because she was going to get what she wanted. She was getting her freedom.

Later that night, when the mage was already readying herself for bed someone entered her chambers. The door was shut roughly behind them, startling the young girl where she sat braiding her long, red tresses of hair. She looked over her shoulder to find the golden-eyed Templar standing in her chambers. There was an indiscernible look on his face, something the young mage could not describe. She frowned.

“What can I do for you, Ser Cullen?” The mage asked as she stood from her seat, blue eyes watching him warily. She trusted him, of course, but something in his eyes unsettled her.

“What were thinking, Arlena?” He asked her in a heavy voice. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

Her frowned deepened. Her blue eyes cast to the ground, studying the position of his feet instead of meeting his gaze. She knew what she had done. And she knew what he was doing seeking her out. It did not matter that she left on the morrow, it did not matter that she would no longer be a mage bound by the circle. She would be free. And even so, he’d still be a Templar come morning.

“He is-he was-my friend,” she whispered softly. “I thought..I thought I was helping him.” She could not meet his gaze as she spoke; knowing nothing she said was good enough. “He loves her.”

“He’s a blood mage,” he sighed in return. “I can’t even look at you.”

His words hurt her. She was sure he knew that and that was why he had said them. They were true, however, for as she lifted her eyes, his were cast away from her. She bit at her bottom lip for a moment before sighing slightly.

“You should go,” she told him. “It’s improper for you to be here.”

He met her gaze them. A clashing of blue and gold, warmth and coldness. She did not want him to go. She did not _want_ to go. She wished he could stay with her forever. That he could kiss her in the moment, hold her and tell her it would be alright. But he could not. Her wishes were just that, wishes.

“Goodbye, Apprentice Amell,” he whispered turning to leave.

“Perhaps if I were someone else,” she whispered lowly, though he must have heard as he turned back to her. “I want..” she paused, the words dying on her lips. There was so much she wanted to say, that she needed to say but she stopped herself. The mage swallowed back the words like she swallowed lyrium. “Goodbye, Ser Cullen, may the Maker watch over you.”

“And you as well, Amell.”

He left her then. And when the door shut behind him she felt empty. She had no right to feel such a way. He was not hers to keep, and yet the absence of him made her ache. Knowing it would be the last moment they spent together made her wish to weep, but she did not.

 _He was never yours,_ she reminded herself. A few stolen kisses did not mean he was hers or that she was his. Cullen was a Templar and Arlena was a mage, two people never meant to belong to one another. He was never hers and he would never be, unless she was someone else.


End file.
